(no subject)
Title: DNA has no feelings
Rating: PG for angst
Disclaimers: Don't own them
Not a Hodges one, written for DNA challenge on ngchallenge but I just felt like wreaking my angst in multiple places.
DNA analysis can be precise. It can determine criminal guilt or innocence by identifying specific markers, probing a complementary sequence, showing a distinctive pattern that matches an individual. The odds are exceedingly small that two people could have the same DNA profile.
DNA evidence can tell you the color of someone’s eyes, or determine genetic predisposition toward a particular disease, or whether twins are identical or fraternal. DNA can tell you if a killer left his cells on his victim.
What DNA can’t tell you is what’s in a person’s heart.
He feels like his DNA is stained, soiled, tattooed with horror. He watches the coverage of the bombing in London, the destruction and death. The tears streaming down his face carry no memories. They’re brand new tears, created for the sorrow he feels today.
But he could swear that he remembers the day in 1941 his grandfather, Papa Olaf stood and watched the Nazis take his father away for trying to help a beaten Jew in the streets of Oslo. Papa Olaf was only fourteen and he never saw his father again. He saw a lot of things no boy of fourteen should see.
Today there are more children whose parents will never come home again.
He knows DNA doesn’t come with sorrow carved into the markers. But he can’t help feeling that his DNA remembers and he knows just how the boy Olaf felt that day in 1941. And he cries.
Dedicated to all who lost loved ones to terrorism anywhere, any time.
Rating: PG for angst
Disclaimers: Don't own them
Not a Hodges one, written for DNA challenge on ngchallenge but I just felt like wreaking my angst in multiple places.
DNA analysis can be precise. It can determine criminal guilt or innocence by identifying specific markers, probing a complementary sequence, showing a distinctive pattern that matches an individual. The odds are exceedingly small that two people could have the same DNA profile.
DNA evidence can tell you the color of someone’s eyes, or determine genetic predisposition toward a particular disease, or whether twins are identical or fraternal. DNA can tell you if a killer left his cells on his victim.
What DNA can’t tell you is what’s in a person’s heart.
He feels like his DNA is stained, soiled, tattooed with horror. He watches the coverage of the bombing in London, the destruction and death. The tears streaming down his face carry no memories. They’re brand new tears, created for the sorrow he feels today.
But he could swear that he remembers the day in 1941 his grandfather, Papa Olaf stood and watched the Nazis take his father away for trying to help a beaten Jew in the streets of Oslo. Papa Olaf was only fourteen and he never saw his father again. He saw a lot of things no boy of fourteen should see.
Today there are more children whose parents will never come home again.
He knows DNA doesn’t come with sorrow carved into the markers. But he can’t help feeling that his DNA remembers and he knows just how the boy Olaf felt that day in 1941. And he cries.
Dedicated to all who lost loved ones to terrorism anywhere, any time.